This n00b went to SXSW and all she got was some dog hair.
All of my pretty, pretty girlfriends who don’t work in tech have been asking me since the day I returned back to LA-LA Land, “How was SXSW?” “How was Austin?” “Is EVERYTHING really bigger in Texas?” “OMG tell me everything?!”. And I try to reply audibly with my hushed, very hoarse voice akin to my favorite tranny at SF’s Divas, “It was fucking insane.”
First off, my husband had told me with an audible snarky, jealous giggle fit, “Have fun in geek vegas!” before I left. I said I will but I’m already fucking stressed out since my hotel, motel, holiday inn…was about 4 miles south of the Austin Convention Center and cabs are scarce. He’s never been, yet assures me I’ll have “fun” as I can hear him sipping on his Napa Valley red at his parents’ bay area home while staring at the fat doggies avoid one another. He’s probably stoned.
A few days before I leave for Austin, I find an awesome Airbnb about 2 miles east of everything SXSW and declare victory! My co-worker was also coming with me so now I’m not all alone in a new place (because this is what girls stress about). Good things come in twos, right?
We RSVP for all of the parties, plan our daylight sessions and pack for sun, rain, the first day of school, frat parties, meet-ups, media blitzes, wet t-shirt contests and the evening chill. We are fucking set! I even submitted some of my expenses beforehand. I’m so money right meow!
The day I leave for Austin, I work a full day and even have time to shop for a new pair of boots since the ones I was going to wear oh you know, cut my toe! Then, the SuperShuttle picks me up 20 minutes early! I’m talking to a co-worker about bats and BBQ then, have to jet out into the crazy Santa Monica street trying to flag down my shittle (that’s not a typo) who has some pissed off passengers because I’m late. No fucker, you’re way to fucking early!
I get through security after visiting the bathroom 3x (I was really bored) I finally got to board my flight and guess where I’m sitting? In the last row, next to a 6’ tall dude who I’m sure has already claimed both arm rests. I can see he’s happy when he sees a midget girl is now his seat mate. I force a fake hello. He’s also a SXSW n00b and wants to talk and take a nap? I just want to fall asleep regardless of the fact that he was slightly pretty to look at. He was from SF and when I said I moved from there, it changed to Palo Alto (ha!) and worked at a VC. I asked him why he wasn’t taking the firm’s jet and if it was because he was an intern — he nearly blushed. I was right!
Fast-forward a few hours and the taxi queue started at #3 sign and ended at a #5 sign. YAY. It’s 1-2am. Then we get a cab with a super nice local and the cutest southern draaaawwwwwl. I give him our Airbnb address and that’s when I should have noticed we were heading to the ghetto. Mr. Cabbie is unaware of the street and waited for us to find the place and made sure we were A-OK!
Once we get in we want to pass out but it was hard not to notice that a dog slept here, here, here and here (I’m pointing to every-fucking-where). There was black dog hair woven in the *new* pillow cases, sheets, mattress and futon. The towel also had bleach stains (kinda ok) and a crusty, mucus stain (totes jizz)!!! Oh and the comforter for the futon smelled moldy and had some funny white stains (non-mucus).
We booked Lucifer’s house in Austin.
I tried to talk to Beezlebub in the morning to see if she (yep, the devil is a girl) could change the linens and towels and we’d be happy as a clam!
She replied: “Ah, my ad says I have a dog.”
Well my mouth says, “You a dirty bitch!”.
I plead again and receive no response for over 24 hours. It’s time to call to complain and it’s a process! Photos, screen shots of our texts and finally after a few hours a new place is booked. Huzzah! There was a lot of scrambling and asking local friends for help but I’d rather not relive this nightmare even through this blog post of rants.